Convulsus
by Broodus Foreheadus
Summary: This is my first story, so please review! Xander is broken. Can the pieces be put back together?
1. Chapter 1

**Convulsus**

**By:** Broodus Foreheadus

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series, nor do I make any money from these stories. I am just borrowing them, but I can't promise they will be clean when I give them back. ;)

**Warnings:** Slash!Slash!Slash! Angst, Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort,

He wondered what he'd done this time. He knew it was his fault. It always was. Something he said, something he didn't do fast enough. Something. . .

He listened with dread as the footsteps thundered down the stairs. When finally the footsteps reached the bottom, he stood, frozen with fear, in the middle of the floor, eyes closed, praying it would be over quickly.

He didn't have time to brace himself before the blows started coming. Blow after blow came with no pattern to allow any anticipation of where the next will land. A shot to his ribs sent him crashing to the floor where he received a hard kick to his stomach.

Finally, when the blows stopped, he lay on his side, watching as the pair of feet, that were just pummeling him in the stomach, ascended the stairs out of sight. After the door slammed shut and he was sure those feet would not return, he whispered the same words he whispered after every beating, longing for the response he knew he would never hear.

"I love you dad."

"Xander I thought I told you I didn't want you patrolling by yourself. You could've gotten yourself killed," Buffy berated him when he walked into the Magic Box.

"I know Buff. I guess I just had to blow off some steam."

He was thankful that he'd met Buffy those few years ago. Being part of the Scoobies gave him lots of convincing material to use to keep the others from asking about the bruises. After a while they just assumed he was patrolling and he didn't have to do much explaining at all.

"No matter how many times I tell you not to, you do it anyway. Try using your brain for once."

With that, Buffy stomped into the training room slamming the door behind her. He sighed._ It's better this way. If they knew what happened last night, things would just be worse, _he silently comforted himself._ As if they would believe me anyway._

"So what was it?"

Xander was startled out of his thoughts. "Huh?"

"What was it," Willow repeated, wondering if he got knocked on the head a little too hard.

"Oh… It was… It was just a couple vamps. They surprised me that's all. No worries."

He hated lying to them. Willow especially. Over the years, she learned to just stop asking about the bruises. Xander was sure she knew what had been going on for years now. Sometimes when he was younger, he would go to her house after a particularly hard beating and she would always have bandages stashed in her room to patch him up with so her mom wouldn't see him and start asking questions.

Coming back to the present with a shake to his head, he headed to the research table noticing the rather large pile of books that was there whenever a new baddie needed to be squished.

"So G-Man. What's the what? Is there some new big ugly in town that needs slaying?"

"Must I ask you again to stop calling me that?"

"At least once more G-Man."

Giles took off his glasses and proceeded to clean them while telling Xander about the demon that has been killing the residents of Sunnyhell. After hearing the description, Xander picked up one of the many old, dusty books and started looking for their demon.

Buffy emerged from the training room just after sundown stating she was ready for patrol. Giles spoke quickly giving them their assignments.

"Willow and Tara will stay here to help me with more research. Buffy, start your patrol near the park. That was where it was last spotted. Do be careful."

"What about me," Xander asked, hoping to be of some help for once.

"Oh… erm… Just go home and TRY to stay out of trouble."

"Ok… I guess I'll see you guys later then."

Without another word, he left the shop.

Xander, instead of going home, wandered through the darkened streets reflecting on his life. Despite what his friends thought, he could be quiet when he wanted to be. He thought about his parents. Always drunk and arguing. About the only thing they could agree on was how he was a useless waste of space. His mother, when she wasn't passed out, always took the time to tell him how he ruined their lives by just being born. Xander had zero happy memories in that house.

_I guess that's a lie,_ he told himself. He thought to when Giles asked him to move Spike into the Basement of Doom. He complained loudly about the arrangement despite the fact that inside he was doing cartwheels, and dreading it all at once. Cartwheels, because he'd secretly had a crush on spike for years now, and dreading because he didn't know how to hide the beatings.

Xander knew he was gay for years now and he used to hate himself for it. He tried so hard to change it. To make it go away. Finally, after that whole mess with Cordelia, he was forced to make peace with that part of himself.

Thankfully for Xander, his dad usually only made a go at him after dark, and Spike usually left at sunset to do whatever chipped vampires do. So Spike never saw the beatings. Xander made sure to change clothes in the bathroom where the vampire wouldn't see the bruises. He was sure Spike didn't know a thing.

Xander pictured those striking blue eyes set above cheekbones that could have been carved from marble. He pictured beautiful lips that he knew would be so soft against his own. Platinum blonde hair, so soft to the touch. A chest sculpted from marble and wrapped in velvet. He longed to run his hands over the planes of that beautiful body, to be wrapped in those strong arms while losing himself in crystal blue eyes just knowing he would be safe.

_Oh yeah,_ he thought, _I've got it bad for the vamp._

All these thoughts raced through his head but he knew that he would never in a million years have the vampire that way. Enemies, yes. Maybe even friends someday, but Spike would never want the damaged goods that was Xander Harris.

Spike strolled through the cemetery, arms laden with bags of blood, and smokes, bought with money he happened to find laying around… in the Watchers' wallet. He'd spent the evening watching Passions reruns until he was sure Timmy was going to pull through the cancer for the third time and finally profess his love for Olivia. He then headed to the ATM, aka Giles' wallet, and proceeded on his way.

Spike's crypt had just come into sight, when a scent in the air stopped him. _What's the whelp doin' out here alone at this time of night?_

After continuing further, Spike caught another scent that stopped him in his tracks. He was confused at the wave of concern he felt for the whelp and the terror at the thought of why he would be smelling his blood in a cemetery in the middle of the night. _I'm supposed to be annoyed at him and walk away without a care in the world right? So why do I fear for his life? Oh hell._

Spike dropped his bags and sped off following the scent of Xanders' blood. Up ahead, he spotted a dark form on the ground and picked up speed. He skidded to a halt next to the broken bloody form of Xander Harris. He sunk to the ground in shock, barely registering the faint heartbeat coming from the boy.

"Please let him be ok," he quietly prayed to whatever god that would listen, not even noticing the single pink tinged tear sliding down his cheek.


	2. Chapter 2

**Convulsus 2/?**

**By:** Broodus Foreheadus

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series, nor do I make any money from these stories. I am just borrowing them, but I can't promise they will be clean when I give them back. ;)

**Warnings:** Slash!Slash!Slash! Angst, Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort,

**A/N:** I want to apologize for how long it has taken to get this up. But I promise that I'm working hard on it when I have the time. However, I don't have much time lately, so I hope you don't mind going a week or two between stories.

**Special Thanks To****:** forsaken 2003, LostGryffindorFoundSlytherin, and cursedgirl. Thanks for the reviews everyone! More More More!

Spike dropped his bags and sped off following the scent of Xanders' blood. Up ahead, he spotted a dark form on the ground and picked up speed. He skidded to a halt next to the broken bloody form of Xander Harris. He sunk to the ground in shock, barely registering the faint heartbeat coming from the boy.

"Please let him be ok," he quietly prayed to whatever god that would listen, not even noticing the single pink tinged tear sliding down his cheek.

Spike worked quickly, gathering Xander up in his arms, being careful not to jostle him too much. Using all the speed and swiftness he could muster, he shot to where he had stashed the Desoto and gently placed Xander in the back seat.

As he sped through the streets toward the hospital, the only thought he allowed to cross his mind was _He's got to be ok._ All others, he locked away in the deepest part of his brain to analyze later. He didn't yet allow himself to wonder why he cared about what happened to the boy.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Desoto screeched to a halt and Spike left it idling right there in the middle of the emergency lane. Ignoring the shouts of the paramedics that he can't park there, he gathered Xander and raced into the building. He nearly growled at the desk clerk when she didn't move fast enough after he yelled at her to get her arse in gear.

There was a flurry of motion as doctors and nurses took Xander from Spike and placed him on a gurney and started wheeling him away shouting things that sounded very medical and foreign to Spike. He was stopped when he tried to follow the huddle through the big swinging doors.

"You can't go any further. The best way you can help him now is to answer some questions for me. Do you understand, or do I have to have you escorted out of here?"

Spike glowered but stayed put.

"Good. Now, what is his name? We may have his records on file."

"Alexander Lavelle Harris," Spike said immediately. The faster this went, the faster they could fix Xander.

"Ah. I knew he looked familiar. We've patched up quite a few bones for him in the past year or two. He's never come to us with this much damage before."

"Yeah whatever. Do you have his information or not," he said impatiently.

"Yes we have his medical records. I know it's hard to see loved ones hurt, but the most you can do for him now is let us do our jobs and stay strong for him when you can."

With that, the doctor rushed off to get the Xanders' records, leaving Spike In the waiting area alone with his thoughts.

_Loved ones? Is that wot's goin' on here? No. I'm not in love with the Zeppo, the Demon Magnet, the White Knight. I can't be. It's just 'cause we work together. That's right._ Even _he_ didn't believe himself.

_Ok, so I feel _something_ for him. But it's not love._ He added quickly. _When did this happen? _He thought back to his time in the Basement of Doom. It was rough at first, which was expected seeing as how he was tied to a chair nearly all day every day, but then as time went a kind of uneasy trust built between them. After working beside Xander, fighting beside him, Spike began to respect him. Any human, who readily throws himself repeatedly in battle against all manner of demons and nasties alongside people wielding strength and magics and doesn't complain about it, deserves a measure of respect. That respect was solidified that night Xander stood up to him and put him in his place.

_Not that I would ever tell _him_ that, _spike thought.

Not wanting to think anymore, Spike proceeded to call the scoobies, leaving messages for them when he got no answers telling them briefly what happened. _At least I didn't have to talk to any of them._

He went back to his claimed spot in the waiting room and pretended to sleep. He didn't have to worry about falling asleep, seeing as the longer he went without word from the doctors, the more he filled with dread.

Finally, more than an hour later, Spike shot to his feet as he heard the shuffle of the doctors' feet coming toward the waiting room.

"How is he? Is he ok? When can I see him?" Spike raced through the questions without pause.

"He'll be fine. He's asleep right now. He won't wake up for hours. I just need to ask a few questions, and then I'll show you to his room. Is that ok?"

Spike sighed impatiently. "Yes, yes, ask away."

"Ok. Every time we had him in before, he wouldn't allow us to do a full examination. While he was in there tonight, we noticed quite a few scars that are rather old. Years old. But we don't have record of hardly any of them. Do you know anything about these injuries?"

_Years?_ Spike thought,_ I thought he didn't know anything about the demonic world before his sophomore year of high school._

"No. I don't know of any injuries he had before a couple years ago. What kind of injuries do you think he's had?"

"As far as I can tell from the scars, he's been severely burned and cut many times all over his body. I don't know how he's had this many injuries and never been in a hospital for them. If you'll follow me, you can see him now."

As Spike followed the doctor, confusion flooded his mind at the doctors' words. _Burns and cuts? Was he fighting demons before Buffy came? _Questions came one after the other with no answer to any of them. The doctor stopped him outside a door, jarring from his thoughts.

"I feel I have to warn you. He's quite bruised, and he has some IV's in, and he's really bandaged up. I assure you, though, it looks a lot worse than it is. But that's not to say he's not badly injured. He'll be laid out for quite a while when we let him go. Will you be the one to take care of him at home?"

"Yes," he answered quickly so as not to talk himself out of it.

"Good. After you've spent some time with him, I'll have some medications and instructions that you'll need to care for him properly." After a pause he continued, "He's going to be alright. You can count on that."

With that, the doctor left. Spike had no doubt that Xander would be ok. Without realizing it, he had made the decision to see to it. After taking, a deep, unneeded breath, preparing himself for what he might see, he opened the door and walked into the room.

For the second time in just a few hours, Spike found himself fighting back tears, still not wanting to accept the feelings causing them. Xander was covered in bruises almost everywhere he could see. His face, where the bandages didn't cover, was swollen almost beyond recognition. His right arm was strapped to a board so he couldn't move and pull the IV's. His torso was wrapped tightly in bandages with bruises showing from underneath stopping only where the sheet started at his waist.

Spike moved silently to the side of the bed and took in the steady rise and fall of Xanders chest, thankful that he was alive. That he was going to be ok. Gazing down at that bruised and swollen face, he made a vow to himself that he would have Xander and belong to him in return.

He trailed a finger down Xanders' cheek then leaned in and, as lightly as he could, pressed his lips to his forehead. He would make this boy…man...love him. No matter how long it took, he would love him, and be loved in return.

Almost so quiet spike almost missed it, Xander murmured one word in his sleep that gave Spike hope that maybe he could keep his promise.

"…spike…"

Spike gave Xander a smile no one has seen in over one-hundred twenty years. That smile held so much love, the sun itself would dwarf in its light. Although Spike was confused about these sudden, intensely strong feelings, he couldn't stop that smile, nor did he want to.

Still smiling, he closed the blinds on the window, brought a chair over to the side of the bed, lowered the safety rail, and laid his head upon Xanders' warm, unmarred left hand. Surrounded by the scent of the man whom so suddenly had his heart, he was contented and, for once, didn't question it. Breathing deeply, he let himself fall knowing his boy…his man… would be there to catch him.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Convulsus 3/?**

**By:** Broodus Foreheadus

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series, nor do I make any money from these stories. I am just borrowing them, but I can't promise they will be clean when I give them back. ;)

**Warnings:** At this point you should know….

**A.N.** I want to thank those of you who have been reviewing, and I ask that you all keep 'em coming! I love knowing that people are reading my story!

Spike slept deeply last night. If he dreamt at all, he could not remember it. Falling asleep surrounded by his boy's scent was…_My boy? When did that happen? It's only been a night and he hasn't even woken up yet._ Feeling confused despite his affirmations the night before, he allowed his mind to run through the events that occurred. More importantly, he allowed his mind to examine his feelings and how they strengthened so quickly for the boy.

_I must have been feeling _something_ for him before,_ he thought to himself, _these things don't just happen._ He thought back to when he was tied to that chair. The boy had every right to make Spike's stay there a living hell. Spike almost expected it after what he's done to the scoobies. But, to Spike's surprise, aside from being tied to a chair at night and the occasional verbal thrust and prod, Xander was the perfect host. Spike would even go as far as calling him nice.

Spike remembered what the doctor said about Xander having old scars. _How could I have lived with him for so long and not have noticed any scars?_ After pondering this question for some time, Spike couldn't remember a single time when he saw Xander in less than a t-shirt and boxers. He remembered Xander zipping off to the bathroom to change his clothes. He never once changed in front of Spike, not even after a shower. _What is he hiding there?_

For the first time, Spike really looked at the boy. He looked past the bruises and bandages and what he saw shocked him. Xander was covered in scars of all kinds. Burn scars, cut scars. Spike couldn't tell what was underneath the bandages, but he was sure they were there as well. A morbid thought crossed his mind when his gaze was stopped by the sheet across Xanders waist.

Spike couldn't stop himself. He had to know if his boy was still whole. Slowly his hand lifted the sheet and gasped at what he saw. The scars continued past the waistline but not one marred the impressive piece of tube steak that lay between the boy's legs.

_Good lord what does he feed that thing?_

Spike smirked. He didn't need to eat but he would gladly chew on that thing all day. For a moment he just sat and took in the form lying before him. He found that the scars were just another part of Xander. They weren't something to parade on the street but Spike felt they just added to Xanders beauty.

"So beautiful," Spike murmured.

Spike put the sheet back into place and sunk back into his chair. For a few hours, Spike just sat and watched his boy sleeping. He thought about how he was going to win the boy's heart when he awakens, and about how it makes him feel thinking about nursing the boy back to health. He thought about falling asleep with Xander tucked securely in his arms, and waking every day and watching him wake up. He thought about how warm Xander would be in his arms, and how that warmth would just seep into him and melt the ice surrounding his heart.

_Oh yeah,_ he thought, _I got it bad._

He was startled from his thoughts when the door opened. The doctor walked in scribbling something on some papers in a folder.

"Good morning. I've come to check Xander out, and make sure there aren't any unforeseen problems. Has he woken up or made any noises through the night?"

"Last night he said my name in his sleep but he hasn't woken up yet. You said he would be awake by now. What's wrong?"

After checking Xanders pulse and other things, the doctor reassured him.

"He's doing fine. Nothing is wrong. Sometimes when we are hurt badly, our bodies fall into somewhere between sleep and a coma so the body can conserve energy for healing itself. I suspect that's what is happening with Xander. You shouldn't be worried."

"You're sure? He's not brain-dead or something?"

"Not at all. Rest assured that Xander will wake up when his body decides he's ready."

Spike sighed in relief. Everything will be fine.

"Thanks Doc. Do you know how long this might last?"

"He'll probably be under for a day or two. We will be coming in periodically to change his IV and bandages and check his vitals. He's well taken care of," he hesitated, "you should go and find something to eat and get a breath of fresh air."

_Yeah it's 10:00 in the morning. That's really gonna happen._

"Thanks' for the concern Doc, but I'm fine for now."

"Ok then. I'm finished here for now. I'll be back later to check him again."

With that, the doctor swept out of the room, closing the door behind him. Spike, after pressing a kiss to Xanders forehead, settled back into his chair and tuned the television in the corner to Passions, ready to spend the day watching his stories with Xander.

Once the sun fell, Spike decided to go get something to eat. With a kiss to Xanders forehead, Spike left the hospital. After stopping at the butcher store, Spike strolled through the darkened streets, sipping his blood lost in thought.

"Spike? What are you doing? Shouldn't you be haunting some crypt moaning about how you're neutered and watching passions?"

Spike turned to Buffy and Willow with a look of rage on his face. In that moment, Spike would have loved to slowly rip them to pieces.

"Where the fuck have you two been? I've left messages for you about Xander."

"Xanders been in the hospital before Spike," Willow said, "It's not that big a deal."

"Yeah fangless, our Zeppo will be getting us doughnuts and coffee in no time. What do you care anyway? You hate Xander."

Buffy didn't even see the fist flying through the air before she was out cold on the ground. Spike roared in pain as the chip fired. _Very worth it,_ he thought to himself. He turned away from Willow trying to revive Buffy, and proceeded back to the hospital. He cursed Buffy the whole way back to the hospital, imagining hanging Buffy from the ceiling with piano wire tied to her toes.

Spike stopped in the doorway of Xanders room with a look of shock on his face. _Bloody hell! I didn't think this day could get any worse, _he thought as he stared at the man standing at the foot of Xanders bed.

"Wot the hell are you doin' here?"

Angel didn't give Spike any more than that. He grabbed Spike by the shirt and threw him face down on the floor, slamming his head into the floor.

"How did you get the chip out Spike?"

Angel stopped the slamming long enough for Spike to ask him what the hell he was talking about.

"Don't play stupid Spike. What do you gain from doing this to Xander?" At Spike's denial, he continued in a venomous tone. "You see, Cordelia had a vision. And in that vision, you were holding a bruised and bloody Xander Harris. Seeing as how you hate Xander, I can't figure out why you would be holding Xander unless it was you who beat him and you were gonna kill him. So I'm gonna ask you one more time. What did you do?"

"I saved his life you great bloody pouf!"

Angel froze confused. "What are you talking about?"

"There's a new demon of the week out there. Xander must have been walking home alone. I found him in a bloody heap in a cemetery. I brought him to the hospital and I've been with him ever since. Which is more then I can say about his so called friends. Now let me the fuck go!"

For some reason unknown to him, Angel believed him. The look in his eyes. The way he talked about Xander. Slowly, He let Spike up.

"Why are you here? Where are Buffy and Willow and the rest?"

"I called them a few times since I brought Xander in. They don't seem to care that he's here."

"I don't believe you."

"Buffy said, and I quote, 'our Zeppo will be getting us doughnuts and coffee in no time' end quote. If you don't believe me just ask Willow. I only left to go to the butcher's to get blood."

Angel mulled this over for a minute before he realized something.

"You didn't answer my first question. Why are you here?"

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Convulsus 4/?**

**By:** Broodus Foreheadus

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series, nor do I make any money from these stories. I am just borrowing them, but I can't promise they will be clean when I give them back. ;)

**Warnings:** At this point you should know….

**A.N.** I want to thank those of you who have been reviewing, and I ask that you all keep 'em coming! I love knowing that people are reading my story!

**A.N** I apologize for how long it's taken getting this up. All I can say is that I go to school and have a full time job and free time is limited. I hope I still have readers out there!

_Gotta run… Can't stop… Can't rest… Have no body, but I have to keep running… Blood everywhere… _

The thundering behind him is a constant reminder of what will come to pass. Not what might come, but what _will_ come. Stopping is not an option. Not because it will help much, though it will buy time, but because to stop is to give up. He doesn't know what it is. Only that it brings death.

He doesn't like to think anymore about how long he's been running, hiding. There is no landscape, no world, but still, somehow, he finds places to hide. Only in these rare hiding places will he allow himself to contemplate how truly long he's been running. Although there is no night and day, no seasons, he still counts what he believes are the days. At the most recent count, he had been running for the better part of two-hundred fifty years. He used to tell himself it was impossible. But after so long, he was forced to accept it.

Language was the first thing he would lose. He even forgot his own name. After running for so long the only thing that meant anything to him was survival. He soon degraded to a feral shadow of his former self. There were never any consistent or coherent thoughts except for two.

The obvious one is to run. Stay ahead of It. Slowing down too much was never a good thing. He learned that the hard way. Although he had no body, he still felt the near blinding pain of claws, or knives, or both, across what should have been his back. No, running is always there.

The second has been there since the beginning, subtly weaving it's way through his every decision. The thing that has kept him going for over two-hundred fifty years. A face, a form, long since forgotten, still lingers in the shadows of his mind, lost in it's depths. A voice he can't quite hear, but longs to remember, always murmuring unintelligible words. A name. A name that he is determined never to forget even if he is running for the rest of eternity.

Just thinking the name for one moment breaks his stride for a split second. A split second was enough for the thundering It behind him, and then he was running again. The pain is worth feeling that name flow across his mind, giving him just the jolt he needs to keep going. He doesn't know why, but the name is just that important to him. He just knows that if he keeps running, he'll run straight into that protective embrace he has never felt.

_Gotta run… Can't stop… Can't rest…Just keep running… He'll protect me…_

_My Spike…_

Inwardly, Spike mentally scrambled for a believable excuse while on the outside he was the vision of coolness. Truthfully, he never thought about what he would tell anyone when asked why he was watching over Xander. Now here he was, staring Angel in the face, frantically scrambling for something to say.

"Well the whelp is in a coma, for lack of a better term. If the bloody Slayer isn't gonna watch over him, who will? I haven't seen hide nor hair of those so called friends."

It was obvious by the look on his face that Angel didn't believe him. In fact, Angel looked like he might start beating on him again, not that that wasn't much of a change from any other time he looked at Spike.

"Try again Spike," Angel ground out.

"Wot? It's not like I have anything better to do anyways is it?"

"What are you getting out of this?"

"What does it matter to you anyway? It's not like I can hurt the whelp anyways. Besides, I thought you hated him."

Angel hesitated, unsure how much to share.

"I don't hate him. For a while I did, but I've gotten over it. Spike I know you're up to something, and I'll figure it out." His voice darkened, "If you hurt him, I won't kill you but you'll wish I would."

With that, Angel swept out leaving a thoroughly miffed Spike glaring at the door.

_Stupid Angel sweeping out of here all dark and mysterious and broody. Gonna put hair dye in that fancy hair gel he likes so much_.

Spike paced furiously, entertaining himself with thoughts about Angel and hot pokers. When he glanced at Xander, all his anger washed away as swiftly as Angel's departure.

"What am I gonna do luv?"

He walked over and ran a hand down Xanders' cheek. Looking down at his boy, he did something he hadn't done in over one-hundred twenty years. He told his story. It wasn't even a conscious decision, he just started talking. For hours he talked, at first about nothing, but finally settled into a good rhythm. There were some laughs, and a lot of tears. A few times he thought he would never stop crying.

By the time he got through his childhood years it was well past dawn. Even though physically, he felt exhausted, emotionally he felt at peace. He hadn't felt this peaceful probably since he was human. This took him by surprise. No one living had heard these stories. These secrets. Even the watchers diaries didn't have anything about him before he was sired, and here he was telling his stories to a mortal. Sure he's an unconscious semi-coma patient, but still a mortal nonetheless. What is it about this boy that, even in his sleep, enchants him so?

With a chuckle, and a kiss to Xanders' forehead, Spike settled in to a long day's sleep.

Spike moaned softly as strong, warm arms circled his waist, lips pressed to his own, tongues winding together in a sensuous dance. Spike buried one hand in that brown hair, while the other memorized a strong muscled back.

Those warm hands trailed all over his naked body, as if memorizing every curve of every muscle, deliberately avoiding his cock, finally settling for two big handfuls of the globes of his ass. For what seemed like both an eternity and a millisecond, they lay there kissing, and exploring, and grinding, and loving every minute of it. Finally, Spike began the descent, kissing down the slope of his neck and across a broad work-sculpted chest. He laved and kissed and nipped first the right nipple until it was properly at attention, then gave equal opportunity to the left one before continuing down. Spike used his tongue to thoroughly map out the plains of his abs and delve into his navel. Following that beautiful trail, he made it to his prize.

For a second, he just gazed at it and marveled at the beauty. Long and thick with beautifully mapped out veins ending with a perfectly circumcised helmet, Spike had never seen a more beautiful sight. He ran his hand gently up and down the shaft, before burying his nose into a neatly trimmed bush, inhaling that musky leather and sawdust and lust smell that was unique to the man before him. He lifted his head, ice blue eyes capturing chocolate brown ones. Slowly he lowered his head, eyes still locked with his lovers', but determined to get that sweet taste upon his outstretched tongue.

Spike jerked awake toppling out of his chair and crashing to the floor.

"Oh god," he groaned looking down at his raging hardon,"I'm having lusty wrong feelings for a coma patient. That is a new kind of messed up."

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**Convulsus 5/?**

**By:** Broodus Foreheadus

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series, nor do I make any money from these stories. I am just borrowing the guys, but I can't promise they will be clean when I give them back. ;)

**Warnings:** At this point you should know….

**A.N.** I want to thank those of you who have been reviewing, and I ask that you all keep 'em coming! I love knowing that people are reading my story!

**A.N** I apologize for how long it's taken getting this up. All I can say is that I go to school and have a full time job and free time is limited. I hope I still have readers out there! I recently lost a family member and I've felt that I haven't been in the right mindset to do this story justice. I assure you that no matter how long it takes, I'll finish this story.

Spike was lost.

At first, it was as if Spike was in a dream world. Like Xander was just asleep and he would wake up and they would live happily ever after. But that dream was quickly shattered. Soon, the days stretched into weeks, and the weeks into months, and Xander never so much as twitched. When Thanksgiving came around, Spike did his best to stay positive around Xanders still form still clinging to the hope that he may be able to hear him speaking. While he was away, however, Spike couldn't help but watch those hopes crash down around him.

Christmas was spent by Xanders bedside. The Scoobies finally deigned to ask Spike for safe passage to visit Xander when they started to realize Xander was in deep trouble. By then, Spike had no more delusions left about 'happily ever after' and just couldn't turn them away. They filled the room on Christmas day and were nearly deafened by each others' silent wishes. It lasted hours, until finally they started to trickle out like sand through fingers leaving an exhausted Spike to sleep, head laid gently on Xanders' hand.

By this point, it was obvious to the Scoobies that Spike was in love with Xander. They couldn't help but see the devotion in his eyes, and the hopelessness. As the months rolled by, they could only watch as Spike wasted away until he was nothing but a shell, a walking corpse, shuffling about the little room fluffing Xanders' pillows or straightening his blankets. They surmised that the only thing keeping him going was that sliver of hope that he could one day hold Xander and have Xander be able to hold him back.

Spike longed to feel those strong arms wrap around him, to him moan his name while they make love. Most of all, Spike wanted to gaze into those chocolate brown eyes and feel the love and safety he just knew lay there.

Love.

Safe.

Those two words, feelings, have been so elusive to him since before he was turned. With Angelus and Darla it was all death and gore and domination. With Drusilla it was about obsession. Thinking back, Spike found that some of his best non-violence related memories were of nights spent tied to that god awful chair watching Star Trek reruns until he wanted to pull his hair out. During that time, they became, well not friends, but they weren't enemies either. Spike was fully aware that Xander wasn't his anything, but he would settle for being not-enemies if the boy would just wake up.

"What the hell do you mean Xander can't stay here?"

It was the most emotion the doctor had seen from Spike in a long time.

"W-w-we-… erm," he spluttered.

"Out with it," Spike ordered, barely choking back a growl.

He cleared his throat. "Well, it seems that no one has been paying for his insurance since he was admitted and they have denied him any further coverage. Without that coverage, we are forced to discharge Mr. Harris. I'm truly sorry."

Spike could barely restrain himself from throttling the doctor with his own limbs, even though he knew the chip wouldn't let him. The rage was suddenly replaced by a wave of despair. _How the hell am I going __to take care of my boy?_ Spike had the funds to give Xander a very cushy life for more than a few lifetimes. The problem is that he won't be able to access it for weeks.

He sighed heavily and nearly collapsed into his chair.

"What are we gonna do now Xander?"

At this the doctor spoke up.

"If I may?" At Spikes' nod he continued. "I am aware of your… problems reguarding sunlight and pointy wooden objects and I believe I can offer a suggestion."

Spikes jaw dropped at the doctors' unexpected knowledge of vampires. The doctor must have read his expression correctly because a wry grin broke out across his face.

"Oh come now. I'm a doctor working the graveyard shift at Sunnydale Memorial. I've seen and met enough 'people' to know that there is a whole other world out there full of things most people in this town choose to believe reside in nightmares."

"Well shit," Spike said after a pause, "it makes sense. I guess."

"Of course it does," he said shortly. "Now, I know of a place you can take Mr. Harris. It's a hospital run by demons for demons and their human... companions. Few know about this place so you're lucky you got me as a doctor. I will warn you though, their services are quite expensive."

"Not for me Doc you can bloody well believe that. How does a human like yourself get to know about a place like this?"

"My grandmother is a Lewk demon. I'm only mostly human. Plus, I'm one of the founders of the hospital. I'll leave the address with your discharge papers. I'll call ahead and have a private room set up for you. We can work out the payment after everything is settled. Enjoy your evening."

Spike was speechless. He was barely able to mutter a "Thank you" before the doctor swept from the room.

The doctor made good on his word. And he was fast about it. In less than half an hour, Spike had Xander In the back of the Desoto and the address to the demon hospital in hand. Soon enough, he brought the vehicle to a halt outside, not surprisingly, an old seemingly abandoned factory.

_Bloody hell. How many abandoned factories does one town need? _Spike thought to himself. As he studied the building, he spotted a small, squirrelly looking man watching him through a small window in a metal door off to the left side of the building. He stepped out of the car and flashed his gameface. The mild cuirosity on the man's face was soon replaced by fear and the man scurried out the door toward him clutching a clipboard to his chest.

"W-would you b-be Master S-spike?"

"I would," Spike finally said after a long moment.

"G-good. Uh. I'll H-have some guys out here to take M-mr. Har-"

Spike growled. "Nobody touches my boy but me and the doc you hear?"

The poor man looked like he was going to pass out. Spike Hadn't had this much fun In a long time.

"Y-y-y-y-yes sir! N-Nobody t-t-touches. This way please!"

With that, the man nearly sprinted through the door. Spike chuckled as he listened to the man began informing the staff of is arrival. _Love it when my reputation precedes me._

Soon enough, the orderlies had them in their room with a setup remarkably similar to the human hospital except the windows had been cemented in. _Pretty good setup for a place that doesn't exist, _Spike thought.

Spike was just settling down for the day, when there was a knock at the door. As he opened the door, Spike was surprised to see the doctor.

"Well now how are we settling in? Good I expect. You already have the entire staff on this floor terrified."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't entirely my fault. But I can't complain. At least now I know they'll do their jobs to the fullest when it comes to Xander."

The doctor chuckled. "Isn't that the truth. Now as I said before, the services here are very expensive. I have to treat you as any other when it comes to financial matters. I'm sure you understand."

Instead of being pissed, Spike was rather impressed. It's not everyday that he meets a partial demon who would speak to him without even a tremble in their voice. Nonetheless, this man was helping xander so the least he could do was be courtious.

"I couldn't agree with you more doc. No worries. I made some calls earlier. Money is being wired as we speak. If there's any problems just ask right?"

"Of course Master Spike. Now I'll leave you to rest." With that, the doctor swept from the room closing the door quietly behind him.

Spike moved over to the bedside, placed a kiss on Xander's forehead, and lay his head on his boy's hand.

"Come back to me my love."

The beast crashes ever closer. Only now it's not one, but many. Hundreds. Hundreds of hundreds. Still he runs. He has long since forgotten language, or any meaning of self. He is... just is. Except that thing. The thing inside that keeps him from just letting them devour him. He knows there is something more that awaits him. Something... safe.

A slash across his back rips him from his musings. That one slash snaps something deep within him. Gives him a strength, a rage he never had before. This new rage poured over him, into him, filled him.

Without a thought, he did something he'd never done before. Not in all the centuries he'd been there.

He stopped.

Fueled by that rage, he threw himself into the din. Fighting not for his life, but for that 'something more' he knows is out there. Giving himself to that sweet, dark rage, he fights. He fights.

It's early morning. Spike is sound asleep, head still in it's usual place upon Xander's hand. The hospital is still. It's almost as if the building itself has gone to sleep. A figure waits in the doorway, completely still. Waiting. Watching. Suddenly, It happens. It watches as eyelids flutter and chocolate brown eyes fill not with youthful humanity, but ancient, ageless darkness.

Having witnessed all that he came to see, the figure simply fades away.


	6. Chapter 6

**Convulsus 6/?**

**By:** Broodus Foreheadus

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series, nor do I make any money from these stories. I am just borrowing the guys, but I can't promise they will be clean when I give them back. ;)

**Warnings:** At this point you should know….

**A.N.** I want to thank those of you who have been reviewing, and I ask that you all keep 'em coming! I love knowing that people are reading my story!

**A.N** School I finally over! It looks like I'll have some extra time to write. I finally feel like I'm in the right head space to do this story properly. Hopefully I still have some people out there to read my stories. I'm very sorry for how long it's taken for me to get this up.

Spike moans as he feels the stretch and burn as that thick rod works into him, filling him. When Xander is finally seated fully inside him, he starts to rock, so slow he wants to scream. And he does. He screams Xander's name, demanding that he goes faster. After a chuckle, Xander leans down and braces his arms on either side of Spike's head and gives him all he's got. Spike's moans become louder. Broken by each powerful thrust. He scratches blunt nails down Xander's strong back as he feels the build of his orgasm. And here it is. It finally breaks free as he feels Xander filling him with his own spend. His vision goes white and he feels as if he is floating. Then...

Pain.

There is a scream and a crash and pain everywhere. He drags his eyes open to find himself in the hallway outside Xander's room. He ignores the pain in his head as he digs himself out of the rubble. The world seems to float and turn on it's side and Spike has to grab the wall to keep from ending up on the floor again. He forces himself to focus. When the world rights itself, he looks across the hall and sees a hole where the wall should be.

_Just big enough for a Spike-shaped vampire to crash through,_he thinks to the headache, throbbing in his skull.

He makes his way across the rubble and through the hole, all the while keeping his senses alerted to whatever is in the room with his boy. He looks around in a mixture of panic and confusion at the extreme lack of monster du jour present in the room. Finally his brain computes the lack of a Xander-shaped boy in the hospital bed and his eyes fix on the quivering, naked mass on the floor in the far corner of the room. Suddenly he's on his knees, pink tears running down his cheeks, emotions screaming through his being.

"X-x-xander?"

At those words, the boy turns his head, and fixes those eyes on Spike. Dread courses through his veins as Spike gazes into those dark eyes, ancient and void of humanity. Spike watches and readies himself as Xander coils his muscles. He knows there will be a fight, but he doesn't know what to do about it. Is this some dark shadow of Xander or is it something else entirely?

Sorry about the shortness of this one guys. My muse just wouldn't let me go on. Not sure how I feel about this one. It was really hard to put down and hash out. Let me know what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

**Convulsus 7/?**

**By:** Broodus Foreheadus

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series, nor do I make any money from these stories. I am just borrowing the guys, but I can't promise they will be clean when I give them back. ;)

**Warnings:** At this point you should know….

**A/N:** *dodges flying produce* Ok I don't think there's really anything I can do to apologize properly. All I can really say is: I'm sorry! First there was life stuff. Then, when I would sit and try to write, it just wouldn't come. Maybe I need someone to help me out a bit? I don't really know how all that works but I'm open to learn if you want to school me in the ways of Fanfic Etiquette. Anyways, feel free to give me hell for being away. I'll be over there, in the corner, eating bugs and typing away on my laptop while mumbling quietly to myself... ^_^ By the way... I'M BACK!

Last time on Convulsus... (Hehe I've always wanted to say that)

Spike was having a very pleasant dream when he was awakened by being thrown through a wall. Once he recovers, he realizes the threat is not some slimy monster... but Xander.

Now back to the boys.

With a feral roar that would make most vamps piss their pants and run, Xander launched himself exhibiting speed that no human could match. Spike, having expected the move, rolled forward across the tiled floor to trade places with Xander. _Fuck! Bloke's pretty spry for a bloody coma patient._ He wasn't given much chance to recover as Xander hurtled across the small space barreling into Spikes midsection sending them both to the floor in a flurry of limbs. Spike struggled to block lightning quick blows and keep Xander's teeth out of his flesh, while at the same time, bringing his feet up as a barrier between them.

Suddenly Xander's gone. Spike looked up in time to see Xander leap through the hole in the wall before speeding away. Whithout another thought, he follows, diving through the hole and following his Love down the hall at top speed. Even a human could have found him eventually just by following the trail of overturned hospital equipment and the frightened screams of patients, visitors and orderlies alike. He rounded the corner and came upon the first body. It looked almost human but with less features, like an unfinished clay model dressed in scrubs. It looked as if two hands reached in and ripped out the front of the demon's ribcage. _Xander, what the hell happened to you?_

Spike took this all in with barely a glance as he sped past in his pursuit. He followed the carnage up a flight of stairs to the ground level. He burst through the stairwell door into a lobby area in time to see Xander savagely rip the head off a demon from behind and throwing the decapitated head like an oversized softball at another advancing demon. Xander didn't seem intimidated by the four demons advancing on him. He ducked a punch by one demon and swept his legs out from underneath him. As that demon fell to the ground, Xander rolled backwards onto his shoulders and drove his foot up into the next demon's neck. Xander sprang to his feet and started advancing on the demon, but he was rocked to the side from a blow to the ribs by the third demon.

Spike Seized the opportunity to leap onto Xander's back and wrap himself around him with an iron grip, effectively pinning the struggling former-human to the ground. Out of nowhere, the doctor pushed through the crowd and stuck Xander with a syringe. Slowly, Xander's screaming and struggling died down until he was unconscious. Kneeling over Xander's sleeping form, Spike trailed a finger down his, once again, innocent face, pondering the confused mix of emotions roiling inside him. What happened to his Xander with the goofy smile and the incessant babbling? Is it even Xander in there anymore?

"Master Spike?"

Snarling, Spike rounded on the doctor and grabbed him by the front of his scrubs. "What the hell did you do to him?" The words were roared in the doctor's face calm and collected face.

"I can assure you I have done nothing to the boy. You should know. Ever since he was brought to me, you've questioned everything I've done. When would I have had time to do anything?"

Spike took a deep breath and released the doctor. He'd vigilantly watched over Xander for so many months, and to suddenly have him wake up as this snarling vicious creature was playing hell on his emotions.

"So what are we going to do now doc?"

"Well first, he needs to be strapped down to a bed, and moved to one of our reinforced rooms. Once he's secure, I'll have to do some damage control before I can even think about how to figure this out. So with your permission..." He motioned to a gurney that had been wheeled in. It was one of those with straps everywhere to hold a person down. Spike clenched his jaw to keep himself from growling and reminded himself that this was necessary. He lifted Xander's sleeping form onto the gurney and did up the straps himself. With a passing thanks to the doctor, he followed as an orderly wheeled Xander toward an elevator.

The room they brought Xander to a small, sparse, room. The walls were concrete, at least a foot thick, and probably steel reinforced, with a heavy reinforced steel door built into the wall. There was nothing in the room except a chair, and the bed Xander was strapped to. After, a few questions to the orderlies, Spike was reassured that the restraints had spells on them and it was unlikely that Xander would be able to break them. Spike really didn't want a repeat of tonight's activities if he could help it.

Spike sat in the lone chair which he moved to his usual spot by the bed. He'd been deep in thought for two days now. It had been almost two hours before the doctor came, a team of nurses and whatnot in tow, to do the poke and prod routine for the tests. The doctor said that It would be a day or two before the results would be in. Xander awoke from his drug induced slumber with a vengeance. For a while, Spike had tried to talk to him to see if he could find a spark of recognition, but it was as if his boy had gone wild and feral. Xander had spoken no words or even showed signs that he _could_ communicate. He just screamed and snarled and thrashed like a trapped and furious wild animal. Finally they made the decision to sedate him so he wouldn't hurt himself. Spike couldn't forget his eyes as he snarled. There was nothing human behind those eyes. Spike couldn't help but wonder about Xander's future if he was stuck like this. Could he be taught what it was to be human again? Would he ever be safe to be around his friends again? Spike had decided long ago that he would care for Xander no matter what state he woke up in, and this didn't change that plan.

The screeching metal sound of the door opening broke him from his musings. The doctor walked in flipping through papers on an overflowing clipboard with a confused look on his face.

"Hello Master Spike. If I didn't think you'd attack me, I'd ask how you're holding up."

"Just tell me what you've got...Please."

"Well that is something that's got me confused. We've scanned his brain, and tested his blood, and conducted numerous other tests and they all say the same thing. I've double and triple checked my findings and even sent them to a colleague to be sure. There is nothing medically wrong with this boy. There's not even any evidence to show he was in a coma at all."

"What are you saying? This is all in his head?"

"What I'm saying is: Whatever happened to Xander, it was not medical. My best educated guess is that Xander came across some bad magic, but I'm just a doctor. I don't know anything about magic."

"Is that it then? You tell me you can't do anything and pat me on the head and send me away?"

"I've told you everything I know Master Spike. If you know anyone who deals in magic, I would suggest you bring them in to have a look."

Spike took a breath to try to calm his rage at wasting all this time looking for something medical when it was something mystical all along. _Please don't make it too late._

"Thanks Doc. I know some people I can call."

After the doctor left, Spike checked on Xander once more and left to find a phone. It took three tries, but finally, Giles picked up the phone.

"Magic Box. Gi-"

"Giles. It's Spike. Xander's awake."


End file.
